


Let's be (dis)honest

by noero



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Bickering, Blow Jobs, First Time, Keith just wants to get the job done, Lance is extra, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-07
Updated: 2018-07-07
Packaged: 2019-06-06 15:06:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15197393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/noero/pseuds/noero
Summary: Lance is backed against his bathroom wall, one hand gripping his sink and the other nervously combing through his hair. Keith is in front of him —down on his knees— calling Lance’s bluff.





	Let's be (dis)honest

**Author's Note:**

> This is self-indulgent and stupid because I love myself.

“No, no, no Keith. ‘Ya gotta listen.” Lance nearly trips over a patch of thorny flowers. The scenery on this planet grows at an alarming rate and they’re pretty certain their Lions are buried. Somewhere. Leave it to Keith and Lance to get lost on the _Little Shop of Horrors_ Planet. This has been a stupid day. 

He clears his throat. Back to the far more pressing issue of how Keith will never get laid. “No one’s gonna wanna get with all that if you’re all serious _focus on the mission_ twenty four hours a day.”

Keith hacks at a heavy tree limb and rolls his eyes. “Lance, I could have _you_ if I wanted.”

Wait. No. Lance stops in his tracks, blinking as Keith marches onward. Tendrils of leaves start wrapping around his calves. “Oh no, no, no, no, no,” he sputters, indignation flaring beneath his embarrassment. He runs to catch up, wrenching his way through the quickly regenerating foliage and doing his best not to fall. "Oh please. _As if!_ Like I could ever get it up for someone with a _mullet_.”

“Oh, I’d get you _going_ ,” Keith says, casual and still focused on his task. He makes a heavy strike against a tangle of dense vines before throwing a wry grin over his shoulder. He’s sweating. A tiny bit out of breath. “But gee, Lance. Not so sure you could keep up.”

“I’m— You—” Lance feels his face heat up. He can’t let Keith win. Not like this. “Yeah, well. I’d like to see you _try_.”

Keith stops this time, even letting an alien vine wrap around his bayard as he turns enough to consider Lance, and raises his eyebrows. Nope, he didn't see that coming. Ha. Take that, Keith.

And for a minute, idiot that he is, Lance thinks he’s won.  


  


* * *

  
One week later Lance is backed against his bathroom wall, one hand gripping his sink and the other nervously combing through his hair. Keith is in front of him — _down on his knees_ — calling Lance’s bluff. 

And OK. Yeah. This is a thing that’s happening. _Wow_ is it happening. Lance chalks it up to post-battle exhaustion spiked with a healthy dose of sexual curiosity and a touch of excess adrenaline. They’d barely returned from a battle and changed back into their clothes when Keith walked up behind him and placed a hand his lower back, barely above the waistline of his jeans. Then asked him, low enough only Lance could hear, if he had a minute. Lance hadn’t technically known what he was agreeing to when he followed Keith out of the common room. 

But now. Well. Here they are.

“You good?” Keith’s palms run along Lance’s hips, fingers dipping beneath the hem of his shirt to ask permission. There’s a tenacity in how Keith looks at him, somewhere beneath that cocky grin, and it heats him up all over. Lance nods, maybe a touch too eager, and Keith pops open the button on his jeans. He smiles, “You gonna watch? Or you gonna chicken out and close your eyes?”

_What?_ “I’m—” Lance freezes as Keith pulls his jeans all the way down his thighs, fingers coming back up to brush along the bare skin beneath his boxer briefs. Keith glances from the obvious bulge in his boxers and back up to his face, raising an eyebrow. 

Lance grits his teeth. “ _Shut up_.”

“Didn’t say anything,” Keith mutters. Then, plants a kiss to the juncture of Lance’s thigh and groin, moving his face to flipping _nuzzle_ against Lance’s erection, close enough that the warmth of his breath bleeds through the cotton briefs and this is next level. Lance’s cock give a rude twitch at the attention and Keith makes a pleased noise. His shoulders hunch forward, giving more leverage for his lips to ghost over the length of Lance’s clothed cock before laying another wet kiss against the fabric.

And Lance is going to die here. He’s actually going to _die_.

Keith is frustrating. He's good at this. Of course he's good at this. Life is unfair. 

“How—” Lance pants, his voice sounding far more worn than he intends, “How are you so calm about his?”

“Practice,” Keith says simply, hooking his fingers under the waistband of his boxers and pulling. Lance barely has time to ponder the admission before cool air is hitting his naked cock and the situation becomes a hundred times more real and a hundred times more frightening.

He jerks his head back hard enough it thumps against the wall behind him. He stares at the ceiling to avoid seeing Keith’s reaction, swallowing thickly and biding his time. Lance is is fairly certain he’s on the higher end of average... probably… but his dick’s never been in anyone’s face before. Notably, his dick’s never in _Keith’s_ smartass face before. He braces himself, gripping harder at the porcelain sink and fisting his other hand against the wall.

The insult never comes. Instead, slim fingers wrap around the base and Keith licks a long stripe right along the underside of his cock, all the way up to swirl around the head and back down. “ _Oh._ ”

Keith repeats the motion a couple more times before pulling off, just so his mouth is grazing the the tip, his voice a soft murmur. “Like that?”

Lance can’t look at him, eyes now focused on the shower head mounted to the opposite wall. He tries to breathe. Shaky. He lets his eyes flutter closed. “Mm. Yeah, I— Like that.”

_God._ What is he saying?

In an apparent show of approval, Keith takes him in his mouth again but this time his lips are wrapped tight around Lance’s cock. He takes him in almost all the way and Lance can’t stop the tiny wisp of a moan that escapes his mouth. Even without looking, he can feel Keith shifting on his knees. He’s got one hand holding Lance still digging int his hip as the other shifts downward to fondle his balls. 

“Ooh,” Lance slumps further back against the wall and his hips jerk forward on instinct, but Keith takes it in stride. “That’s good… Oh, that’s good.”

Keith releases his grip on his hp and both of his hands fall back down to Lance’s legs, sliding from his hips to his inner thighs and rubbing firm circles up along the sensitive skin there. He nudges his legs open just a fraction more. Lance chances one look down just as Keith glances up and—

Keith pulls off with a pant, voice breathier than Lance has ever heard it. “Working for you, huh?”

Something inside Lance starts to crack. This is hot. Stupid hot.

“Do you-” Lance sucks in a deep breath as Keith sets back to work, how he flattens his tongue back over the base and swallows around him. Holy heck. “Do you _enjoy_ doing this?”

Keith pulls of again and tilts his head, fingers still inching further up Lance’s legs. His lips fall into that stupid-cute frown he does. “I’d enjoy it a lot more if you stopped interrupting me.”

And Lance is quiet after that. Sort of. He tries to stifle the small noises for a few minutes but eventually realizes Keith responds to them. Every now and then, there’s a low groan that Lance feels more than hears, and all it does is make him hornier. 

Feeling bold, he brings a hand to Keith’s hair and combs his bangs out of his eyes and Keith readjusts his angle just enough for Lance to ease just a little further. 

And. “Oh _God_.” Keith lets him slide deeper, tongue still moving against him, and Lance’s shoulders drop forward. “Keith, I’m— If you don’t stop. I’m gonna— Please.”

Keith reaches one hand up to pull Lance’s further down. Urges Lance’s further into his hair and Lance grips him, tugs a little. And Keith makes this choked little noise around him and Lance nearly loses it right then and there. He holds on. A little longer. His hips spasm.

Keith pulls back, not off, but enough to be more comfortable. The wandering hand between Lance’s legs eases forward and one finger presses up against hole. Firm, but not enough to penetrate. 

Needs this. 

_Keith._

He jerks forward once, mouth falling open with a gasp, and Keith’s hands are back on his hips holding him steady. When it’s done, Keith stands and holds a finger up when Lance starts to speak. Wordlessly he leans over the sink and spits, turning the faucet on to rinse his mouth.

And. That should not be hot. Lance bites his lip, lazily pulling his underwear back on. “So you want… I mean— I can return the favor? Or whatever you're into? We can, um...”

There’s a pause. Keith turns off the faucet after washing his hands and regards Lance with a calm expression, crossing his arms over his chest. He’s all composure, just like that.

“Oh, come on,” he finally says, tilting his head with that stupid-cute smile. He gives Lance a once-over and reaches over to place a hand on his shoulder. For a second Lance's heart stutters, thinking Keith might kiss him. But then. “Like I could ever get it up for a cargo pilot.” 

Oh.

Oh wait.

Keith turns to leave before Lance can fumble his way back into his jeans and he’s out the door before Lance even makes his way out of the bathroom. 

And that son of a—

**Author's Note:**

> This is war~


End file.
